


you’ve always done the same for me

by earnmysong



Category: Smallville
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 06:24:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earnmysong/pseuds/earnmysong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“We should really think about trying our hand at world domination,” she muses, trailing after him. “No one would be able to touch us.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	you’ve always done the same for me

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time playing around with these guys and it’s the first thing I’ve written in quite a while, so here’s hoping it’s decent. Also: I have no idea how kids wormed their way in here. Oops? Technically, this was written to take place sometime in the post-series finale future. Title from Phillip Phillips’ _Gone Gone Gone_.

\----

An activity Lois doesn’t normally find on her Friday afternoon schedule? Coming within inches of blinding herself with her eyeliner pencil. 

When she’s recovered enough that her heartbeat is no longer drowning out the list of obscenities running through her head, she spins away from the bathroom mirror, expecting to find Clark fresh out of Superman mode. What she discovers is something of a surprise. Although Clark is in fact standing in the doorway, he’s not in his official _I’m off to save the day_ ensemble; his outfit is one hundred percent Clark Kent, _Daily Planet_ beat reporter.

“Your inability to enter a building like a normal person in non-dire situations annoys the hell out of me, you know that? I almost maimed myself.” The words don’t have any real bite in them, though, and he laughs when she brandishes the tool she still holds in her hand at him for emphasis.

“After all this time, you’re still not used to the superspeed making an appearance at random intervals?” he asks, his eyebrows raising in mock disapproval. “And who said the situation wasn’t dire?”

“Since ‘Superspeed Surprise’ is pretty much a daily special for us, I’d be a little worried if I wasn’t. I thought the deadline on your Met Gen transplant thing was seven, though? It’s only four. I figured I’d be Clark-less for a few more hours.” She turns back to the mirror, begins to finish her makeup. “And if getting dressed has suddenly become a national emergency, the world is in more trouble than I ever realized.”

Never one to beat around the bush, particularly when he discovers she’s about to run off on a mission he thinks is reckless, Clark says, “Perry told me he shot down your Aubert idea and he wanted me to _go home and make sure my star reporter, who also happens to be your wife, doesn’t get herself killed trying to corroborate this lead_.” He breaks out his impression of their boss for that last bit, something she normally thinks is adorable despite its slant toward being horrendous. At the moment, however, it kind of makes her want to throw her hair straightener at the wall. 

She gets her anger under control ( _cleansing breaths, Lois; count backward from ten_ ) before she faces him, innocent smile firmly in place. “Tonight is recon only, Smallville. No confrontation. Cross my heart.” He starts to roll his eyes at this, so she draws said shape on her chest. “See? I actually mean it this time!”

“The hundreds of other times you’ve said that, you were what? Hoping I wouldn’t notice you’d crossed your fingers behind your back?” he laughs.

“Hey! I never mean for things to go south, okay? It…” She waves her hands in the air and paces restlessly, trying and failing to have what she wants to say come out eloquently. “It always just seems to happen.”

“Lois.” His hands come to rest on her shoulders, keeping her still. “I know. I also know how much you want this story and that you don’t go after the head of a French organized crime syndicate alone. So consider me your wingman for the evening. Just tell me what I need to do.”

When he gets to the end of his speech (some variation of which he’s used to talk her off many an emotional ledge), she hugs him so hard that she loses the feeling in her arms after the first few seconds.

\----

“That was fabulous,” Lois breathes, following Clark into the house and shutting the door behind her.

“Lois, you were almost shot tonight. And I still think you have a concussion.” He touches the growing bruise on her forehead to illustrate his point. She swats his hand away, making a beeline for the couch. “Which definition of fabulous does that fall under, exactly?” he asks, taking a seat next to her while she tries to decide which of the shows she’s unearthed from the depths of the DVR is actually worth watching. 

“Let’s look at this objectively, shall we?” she says once she’s made her choice and it’s playing softly in the background. “Yes, I was staring down the barrel of a gun for a minute there and, yes, my attempt to duck and cover was somewhat ill-timed, resulting in my going face-first into a wall.” She stops here, shaking her head at the memory of these unfortunate events. “But, because of the duck and cover situation coupled with the dude who pulled the trigger not being the best shot, the bullet meant to be embedded in my head ended up in the electrical grid control panel instead.” 

“Plus, I was wearing…” She pulls at the neck of her dress, extracting a thin black cord from the fabric and placing the attached microphone in his palm, “…this. Everything I need is right here. That, Smallville, is the Lois Lane-Kent definition of fabulous.” Her statement is accompanied by a victory dance that’s half ‘raise the roof’ and half that ‘sideways stair-climbing but with hands’ move that the kids have made it their job to perfect. 

(Thank God they’re visiting Martha for the week or she’d have had to endure a ten-minute demonstration on the correct way to do it.)

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind for the future then.” He grins, kisses her gently. “Tonight’s going to be an all-nighter, right?” Her sheepish nod is all the response he needs to start in the direction of the kitchen. “Thought so. I’ll get the coffee started.” 

“We should really think about trying our hand at world domination,” she muses, trailing after him. “No one would be able to touch us.”


End file.
